


NCIS meets UNCLE

by YumYumPM



Category: NCIS, The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 13:18:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YumYumPM/pseuds/YumYumPM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A crossover<br/>This was written shortly after NCIS's debut, before I even knew the characters <br/>2003 revised</p><p>An NCIS case turns up a link with the UNCLE and Ducky's past catches up to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	NCIS meets UNCLE

Napoleon Solo was home doing nothing more exciting than going over his finances when his pen started to beep.

“Mr. Solo, Sir John would like to see you in his office as soon as possible.” Was all that was offered.

Arriving at U.N.C.L.E.’s headquarters shortly thereafter, he went briskly down the hall to Sir John’s office. Oddly enough he didn’t really care what the summons was about. Working for U.N.C.L.E. wasn’t quite the same as when Waverly had been in charge and most of all he missed working with his partner. There wasn’t any excitement anymore; maybe he was getting too old for this.

Friday, Sir John’s assistant met him at the door and escorted him inside. Sir John was standing at the head of long table reading from a folder. Another man sat at his right looking bored.

“Good of you to come so promptly,” Sir John stated without looking up. 

Kowalski stopped looking bored and half rising shook his head and pleaded, “Oh, no. Not him again.”

Solo calmly walked over to a chair several seats down and sat crossing his legs. “You have a problem?”

“He’s so old for Christsake,” continued Kowalski as if Solo had said nothing.

“Mr. Kowalski, if you cannot refrain from making disparaging remarks you can leave.” Sir John set down his folder and glared at the younger agent.

Solo waited patiently, it no longer bothered him that Kowalski still thought him too old, too slow inspite of the results that he and Illya had shown on their missions since returning to U.N.C.L.E.

Kowalski slowly sat down again and clamped his mouth shut.

“Mr. Solo, one of our best agents working undercover as a navy seaman has been found dead. The Navy N.C.I.S. will be investigating the circumstances of his death They have no idea he was working for us and I need not tell you how dangerous that can be to the mission he was on.   
This folder contains all the information our man collected before he died. I want you to go to N.C.S.I. and get their cooperation, they could be of great assistance. Friday has everything you’ll need,” Sir John continued as he handed the folder across to Napoleon

Kowalski looked up with surprise, “What about me?”

“Ah yes, you, Mr. Kowalski will replace the dead man and continue his assignment. Friday, do you have his papers ready?” Sir John said as Friday walked into the office and handed a packet to Napoleon. Another packet she gave to Kowalski.

“And what was his assignment?” Kowalski asked as he opened his packet.

“He was working in disposal,” Friday told him on her way out.

“Bomb disposal?” Kowalski perked up.

“No. Waste disposal,” Sir John informed him.

The look of horror on Kowalski’s face was priceless and Napoleon had to hide his grin.

“You have your assignment, report back when you get some result.” Was all the dismissal they received.

As they left the room together and were approaching the elevator, Kowalski looked at the papers in his hand, shook his head, and wondered out loud, “Why do I get all the dirty jobs?”

Solo pushed the elevator button and offered, “Maybe because you do it better?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

On his way to the office of N.C.I.S. he opened the folder to review the facts of the case. The death of an agent was always tragic, but in this instance he was puzzled. The agent had only been on the case a few days and the leads were few. Then he turned his attention to the N.C.I.S. folder. There was a brief summary about what Navy N.C.I.S. represented. The team that would be investigating the incident was headed by N.C.I.S. Special Agent Gibbs. He was obviously a highly skilled investigator as witnessed by the success rate of his team. It would definitely not do to underestimate the man.

Arriving at his destination he was escorted to Agent Gibbs, all the business around him made him feel that he was back at U.N.C.L.E. headquarters. He noticed that they had use of the latest technology. When he was shown to Gibbs’ desk he introduced himself with a disarming smile. It was obvious that Agent Gibbs had heard he was coming and was not pleased. “We only just got this case. I doubt Ducky has even started the autopsy.”

Solo put on his most diplomatic face and assured the man that the last thing he wanted to do was disrupt his case. His mind wasn’t really on what he was saying as there were several attractive young ladies passing by. He turned back to Gibbs and asked if perhaps he could be in on the autopsy. It wasn’t really his thing, Illya was the one who liked the gory stuff. But what the heck.

Gibbs led Napoleon down several hallways till they came to a set of double doors. Another attractive girl had just gone by as Gibbs pushed through the doorway talking. All of a sudden Napoleon froze. He had not really been listening when Gibbs had asked the medical examiner to cooperate with him, when suddenly he heard a voice he thought he would never hear again say U.N.C.L.E. He did his best to control his face and stared at the man standing over the body. No…it couldn’t be….the hair was a little darker, the eyes hidden behind glasses but still. He walked over to a wall to lean against it and put his hands in his pocket more to steady himself than anything. And all he could think to say was “Ducky?”

How Could I Not

Donald “Ducky” Mallard stood looking down at the body lying on the table. “Oh well, another day another body,” he said aloud humorously. “Let’s see what we have here.” The door to autopsy slid open opened admitting the man in charge of the N.C.I. S. Unit he worked with. He was speaking over his shoulder to another man who followed him into the room.

“Hi, Ducky, sorry to interrupt but this case has taken an unusual turn and we have orders to work with this gentleman from the…”

“U.N.C.L.E.” Ducky finished for him his attention on the U.N.C.L.E.

Gibbs looked at Ducky in surprised and then looked at the man behind him. The man who had been so charming earlier now stared at Ducky with an unreadable expression. Something was going on here that he was not aware of.

Ducky glanced at him and motioned for him to leave saying, “I’ll take care of it.”

Nodding Gibbs shrugged and as he turned around he glanced over his shoulder in puzzlement.

After a moment Ducky looked back at the body on the table as the man moved over near the wall with his hands in his pockets and said with a raised eyebrow, “Ducky?”

Ducky glanced down and with a half smile so familiar to the other man replied, “Actually it’s Donald Mallard.”

“Ah,” remarked the other man getting the connection from Donald and Mallard to Ducky. “Last time I saw you, you were in the dressmaking business.”

“Yes, well I felt in need of a change.”

“Going from dresses to dead bodies can be quite a change.” Moving closer he asked, “Illya, why?”

Ducky glanced up. “Why did I leave U.N.C.L.E? Now about this body…” trying to change the subject.

“Nooo, and don’t change the subject.” Napoleon slowly let out a breath. “Why did you leave…..me?”

Ducky looked down thinking about their last mission together and closing his eyes remembered almost losing the man that was closer to him than a brother. He opened them and slowly turned to look into the sad eyes of Napoleon Solo. “How could I not,” was all he said.

Exit Illya, enter Ducky

He slowly turned to look into the sad eyes of Napoleon Solo. 

“Not what? Leave me or stay?” demanded Solo.

Ducky glanced over Napoleon’s shoulder and noticed Gibbs peeking in through the window. “Napoleon, now is not the time nor the place. Let’s finish with this first.” Ducky motioned to the body on the table.

“Okay,” Solo said with a look that told Ducky that this was not over.

Solo paced back and forth behind him as he went to work on the body-causing Ducky to smile at the familiarity of it all. As it was he started his oral review automatically. It was a good thing that he could multi task. After awhile he remarked, “Napoleon, would you please quit pacing.”

Napoleon paused and came over to stand next to-he was having a hard time thinking of him as Ducky. “So what did he die of?”

“Hmm, no outward signs as to death,” Ducky reached over and picked up an instrument and began opening the chest cavity. He heard a choking sound and looked up to see Solo backing out of the room.

“I’ll see you later,” Napoleon said as he turned and swiftly left the room. Ducky went back to work with a sly smile that Napoleon would definitely have recognized.

Later at a nearby bar Solo sat nursing a scotch when he felt rather than heard someone behind him. Looking up he asked, “How did you find me?”

Ducky sat next to him and motioned to the bartender for a drink. “I used to be a spy after all,” he replied, as the drink was set before him.

Napoleon looked at it quizzically. “Not your usual?”

“Not in this life,” Ducky replied.

Turning to face his old friend Napoleon asked, “Is now the time and place?”

Glancing around Ducky replied, “Not here.” Picking up his drink he led the way to a table at the back of the room. As they sat down with their drinks a waitress stopped at their table. “What’ll it be, Ducky?” she asked.

“Ah, Lila, my love, you know what I like,” he leered.

Napoleon nearly choked on his drink and his eyebrows went up to the top of his head as he watched incredulously as his old friend ordered and flirted outrageously with the waitress. He was so surprised that when she turned to him for his order he was speechless. Ducky looked at him with amusement and taking pity on him ordered for him. Neither of them said anything for some time each thinking their own thoughts. 

Napoleons thoughts turned to how much his friend was different, the voice was the same but gone was the accent he remembered so well. Illya had always worn glasses for reading, but now they seemed to be a permanent fixture. Finally Napoleon ventured, “How do you explain your past?”

“I have a past,” replied Ducky as he stared into his drink, before he could explain further the waitress arrived with their orders and Ducky flashed her a smile and started digging in. A couple at the next table complained that Ducky and Napoleon had been served first, while they on the other hand had been waiting for 15 minutes. “Ducky’s special,” was all she’d say and turned to flash a smile and wink at her favorite customer.

“You must have been planning to disappear for a long time,” Napoleon accused him.

“No,” Ducky informed him between bites, then he set down his fork and let out a small sigh. “When I first came to America I was not sure of my reception. So I made plans.” Seeing the look on Napoleon’s face he hurriedly went on, “this was before I’d met you and got to know I could trust you.” He picked up his fork again and started eating. “After all I didn’t know who might decide to sanction me…KGB, GRU, CIA, FBI…. After we started working together I just left it in place. After all things were good,” giving Napoleon a look that set his heart racing, “very good. But then one day it was…just too…much.”

Napoleon looked down at his plate. What could he say, after all hadn’t he done the same thing years earlier. Before he could think of how to respond he felt a presence behind him and looked up to see Gibbs sitting down at the table with them. Setting his drink on the table he looked from Napoleon to Ducky, “So how do you two know each other?”

Ducky immediately launched into an outrageous story of how they met while Napoleon leaned back in his chair resenting the intrusion and not really listening. All of a sudden he picked up on something about an autopsy on a wolf. Wait a minute, he sat up straight, that had really happened…the details were different but the story…. This could mean trouble, what if Gibbs decided to check out this story? Gibbs, according to the reports, might contact U.N.C.L.E. to see if it were true, that could blow Ducky’s cover. Napoleon cleared his throat-causing Ducky to stop in the middle of his story and look at him. Raising an eyebrow and hoping Illya got the message he said, “Perhaps you shouldn’t be telling this. After all it is classified.”

Ducky looked at him and realizing what he was trying to say turned to Gibbs with an apologetic shrug.

“Ah, I understand,” said Gibbs leaning back in his seat like a man willing to wait as long as it took.

Napoleon gave a mental sigh of relief. This should give him enough time to contact Sir John and stall any inquiries if there should be any. But how to do it without giving Ducky away, he thought with a frown. Damn, when had he let go of Illya, started thinking of him as Ducky? Bringing his mind back to the present he heard Gibbs ask, “So what were the findings on the autopsy?”

“If you had thought to check your desk you would have seen the written report already done,” retorted Ducky.

Solo hid a slow smile. Oh well Illya Kuryakin might be dead…but Donald Mallard was very much alive and the possibilities were endless.

 

Come into My Parlor said the Spider to the Fly

 

Napoleon had returned to his room after Gibbs had barged in on his and Illya’s tell all reunion.  
He paced around trying to decide how to broach the subject of keeping the files closed with Sir. John. Finally he came to a decision and pulled his pen out of his pocket. “Open Channel D.”

“Ah, Mr. Solo you have something to report on the death of Agent Phillips I assume,” Sir John inquired.

Napoleon closed his eyes, darn he’d forgotten all about that in his concern to keep his friends secret. “Umm, not at the moment, there just might be a small problem. Special Agent Gibbs seems to resent our intrusion into his investigation and from what I’ve read in the report you gave me he wouldn’t be above trying to get information about my early days with UNCLE to use against me. He’s even intimidated as much. Perhaps if they could be labeled classified?”

“A most unusual request. Well I see no reason why any early information about you would have any bearing on this case. We’ll take care of it at this end. Have you heard anything from Kowalski?”

“Not so far, sir.”

“Ah well, do keep in touch,” Sir John ended the communication.

As Napoleon closed the channel he let out a deep breath, one thing taken care of. A glimmer of an idea occurred to him. He really didn’t know what the autopsy report said, but Ducky did. Perhaps…? He grabbed the folder with the information on NCSI and finding Donald Mallard’s cell number listed, picked up the phone.

Ducky was driving down the interstate on his way home when his cell phone beeped. “Medical Examiner,” he answered.

“It’s me,” came a familiar voice. “Can you stop by? I’ve been in touch with Sir John, and he would like a report on the autopsy.”

“Can’t you wait till tomorrow and get it from Gibbs?” asked Ducky slightly exasperated

“I could, but why get it second hand when I can get it from the source? Besides I’d really like to see you alone.”

Ducky closed his eyes for a minute; this was not a good idea. He had a fairly good life going. It would be dangerous to resurrect the past. He wouldn’t do it. “I’ll be right there,” he said with a sigh.

Arriving at Napoleon’s door he knocked and heard the summons to come in. Entering he saw Napoleon by the bar fixing two drinks. Not his old drink of choice but his new. 

“I contacted Sir John and got all our old cases classified. So even if your friend Gibbs tries to access the information he’ll…” and left the rest of the sentence in the air as he handed Ducky his drink. “Why don’t you have a seat?” he offered as he reclined on the sofa and patted the seat next to him.

“Thank you, but I think I’ll stand. Now what exactly did you want to know.” Ducky seemed extremely nervous.

This bothered Napoleon who looked at Ducky more intensely as he leaned forward. When had Illya started to wear bowties? He wondered. Then he wondered why he was wondering. “So how exactly did Agent Phillips die?”

Ducky wondered around not really looking at anything in particular. “I don’t know,” he stated.

“You don’t know?” Napoleon repeated in surprise. “You’re the medical examiner what do you mean you don’t know?”

“Exactly what I said. There is no discernable evidence as to what killed him. We’ll have to wait until Abby gives a report from the toxicology.”

Napoleon reached over and picked up the folder on the table “Abby Sciuto, forensic specialist, hmmm.” His eyes lit up.

“Napoleon, she is not your type,” Ducky remarked with amusement.

Napoleon slowly got up and walked closer to Ducky and said softly, “And just what is my type?”

Ducky backed away till his back was to the door, but Napoleon followed his movement and reaching out started to undo his bowtie.

Ducky’s last conscious thought was ‘Oh what the hell.’

 

The Final Chapter

 

*beep *

Ducky’s eyes flew open. Where was he, not in his own home? Then he remembered Napoleon and last night. He looked around as Napoleon put on his robe and answered his pen.

“Kawolski here, just reporting in.”

“How’s everything going? Find anything new?” Solo spoke softly into his pen, then looked up and noticed that Ducky was wide-awake anyways. He thought about last night with a great deal of satisfaction after all he still had it, more over Illya still had it.

“Just a bunch of toilets. This job is disgusting; this is not what I joined U.N.C.L.E. for. I’ve followed Phillips last days to the letter, but nothing interesting so far.”

“Well, keep up the good work.” Solo closed the channel and saw that Ducky was rapidly getting dressed and almost out the door. “Ducky…,” he started to say.

Ducky stopped with his hand on the knob. “Napoleon, we can’t do this…I can’t do this.”

Solo came up behind him and purred into his ear, “Are you saying you didn’t enjoy it?”

Without another word Ducky opened the door and walked out.

 

Later that morning Ducky entered Abby’s area with her favorite drink. He looked up through the glass panel that marked Abby’s territory and saw Napoleon greeting Gibbs. Napoleon glanced over to where Ducky was and they exchanged a brief look. Abby notice the sparks that seem to fly between them and asked, “So what’s with you and the old guy?”

Ducky, looked away embarrassed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Aw, come on Ducky, it’s perfectly obvious, some of my best friends are gay.” Abby came close and nudged him in the side.

Before Ducky could think of anything to say Gibbs walked into the room with Napoleon at his side. Gibbs introduced Napoleon to Abby Sciuto, and Ducky held his breath afraid of what she would say. But he needn’t have worried Napoleon had turned on his charm and Abby appeared to be under his spell.

“What have you found?” Gibbs requested.

Abby broke her attention away from Napoleon, he may be old but he was way kool, she thought. “Yes, well I did a toxicology scan on his blood and didn’t find much ….except for this really miniscule trace of an element, highly radioactive, that probably killed him within 15 maybe 20 minutes,” she said proudly.

Solo started and quickly took out his pen. “Open channel D. Kawolski, are you there.”

“Kawolski here. Look I’m just getting ready to …”

“Don’t do anything. Just stop what you’re doing and get out of where ever you are.”

“What…?” But he didn’t hear anymore because Solo had broken the connection.

Gibbs turned to Solo. “You don’t think..?”

“You never know,” he replied. “Open Channel D. Sir John, please”

After bring Sir John up to date, the N.C.I.S. group got together and working with their usual efficiency managed to locate a stockpile of highly radioactive material that was probably going to be used in a terrorist attack. Sr. John was very happy with the outcome and more than willing to leave the rest in the capable hands of the N.C.I.S.

After all the excitement had died down Ducky was again in Abby’s area and looked out the glass panel to see Napoleon saying goodbye to Gibbs. Napoleon came into Abby’s office and taking her hand placed a kiss on it as she sat in her chair looking thunderstruck and thanked her for all her help. He then turned to Ducky. “I’m glad to see you’re doing well,” saying even more with his eyes. “Maybe we could get together for lunch sometime…?” and reached out his hand to shake Ducky’s.

Ducky looked into those eyes. “Yes…that would be…acceptable,” he stated and then decided to pull Napoleon into a fierce hug.

Gibbs had just been handed a pile of folders and happened to look up at that moment. There’s got to be more to this, that story Ducky told was really outrageous. Maybe I’ll contact U.N.C.L.E. to see how much of it’s true. He looked down at the stack of files on his desk. Then again maybe I won’t.

The End The End The End.


End file.
